


Loudly, Loudly

by tellywhich



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Always1895 Johnlock Fic Prompt Challenge, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Explicit Language, M/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 23:17:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15399783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tellywhich/pseuds/tellywhich
Summary: John and Sherlock's beach holiday would have been perfect if it weren't for those honeymooners next door. Leave it to Sherlock to come up with a solution...





	Loudly, Loudly

**Author's Note:**

> I usually prefer to write fluff and feels, but today I was in the mood for some heat! Not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> This fic was written for [FinAmour's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinAmour/pseuds/FinAmour) Always1895 Johnlock Fic Prompt - July's Theme: Johnlock on Holiday!

“John.”

John drew the battered crime novel closer to his face. He and Sherlock were under the thick shade of a grove of palm trees, just a short stroll from the clear waters of the bay, with its polite lapping waves. They had claimed this most coveted of lounging spots from the honeymooning couple with which they had the misfortune of sharing a paper-thin wall. John was sure they had gone back to their room to set off another round of fireworks, and he was determined not to lose the spot upon their return. He gave a contented hum and peeled his sweaty thighs from the lounge chair, pressing both bare feet flat against the plastic stripping and wiggling his toes.

_“John.”_

John tilted his head to look over at Sherlock. “Didn't you bring your magnifying glass?”

Sherlock blinked. “Well, yes.”

“You don't get to see black sand every day. Could be important research – HEY!”

Sherlock had leaned forward and snatched the book from John's fingers, stalking off toward the water, his steps faltering as he reached the hot sand. John sprang after him, and he skipped the rest of the way, splashing loudly into the water. 

“Don't you dare!” John lunged for Sherlock, but he leaned away, nearly losing his footing before he pitched the book far out onto the waves.

John stared after it, frowning. The book bobbed twice then began to sink.

“It was a necessary sacrifice,” Sherlock said, turning to face him. “Based on last night's performance, I estimate that our lovely neighbours will be concluding their mid-day act of sexual congress in approximately five minutes, and will spend the next hour in bed staring into each other's vacuous eyes while whispering meaningless promises that will come back to haunt them when they begin their divorce proceedings in a few years.”

John winced. “Sherlock-”

“In the meantime, we will decide that our pallid British skin cannot withstand another moment of exposure to this tropical sun, and retire to our room for the afternoon.”

“We will?” John asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That _is_ the point of the holiday, is it not?” Sherlock asked, his eyes wide and innocent as he drew his bottom lip into his mouth, then let it slide out slowly between his teeth. “You, me, tangled in bedsheets, you shouting my name wildly as my tongue laps in circles around the head of your cock, pressing and licking against your slit before I swallow you down to the root...”

 _“Bloody hell,”_ John gasped, his cock beginning to press against the smooth nylon of his swim shorts.

“The slick, sweaty slide of our bodies as you flip me onto my stomach,” Sherlock continued, his voice pitching lower. “Your fingers tracing down the ridge of my spine as you press kisses to my shoulders. Your cock, wet from my saliva and hard as a rock, trailing along my sacrum and over the curve of my arse as you work your way down. Your thumbs dipping down to expose me as I rut frantically against the sheets, moaning loudly in delirious abandon as your tongue teases the tight ring of muscle and nerves...”

John took a step closer, sliding one hand around Sherlock's waist, the other tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he said, breathless. “Go on.”

Sherlock's eyes flashed. “For once, you want to make me forget the neighbours, forget to be quiet as you ream me from behind, your cock filling me up in the way I always crave, your fingers bruising my hips, enthusiastic moans escaping from between your gritted teeth as I cry out your name, the ostentatious headboard slamming against the wall in time with your powerful thrusts...”

John groaned, nearly collapsing against Sherlock, his shorts too tight against his arse, a raging erection plain for all to see, but he didn't _care_. He slid his hands down to Sherlock's hips, pressing their bodies together mercilessly.

“I'm not accustomed to being outperformed,” Sherlock gasped, hips tilting against John. “And last night, our neighbours were so loud that they made us sound like we were having a hushed shag in the cramped confines of a public toilet.”

John chuckled. “They _were_ pretty damn loud.”

Sherlock leaned forward, mouth tracing the outer edge of John's ear. “This is a _very_ important opportunity to surpass them in volume, John. One that we must not miss.”

“You don't have to convince me,” John said, shivering at the low rumble of Sherlock's voice.

“And I'm sorry about your book,” Sherlock added. “But as I said, it was a necessary sacrifice.”

“You think I care about the book?” John asked, laughing. “ _Forget_ the book. I don't care about the bloody _fucking_ book, Sherlock.” He drew Sherlock's face down, licking into his mouth, sucking hard on his lower lip, eliciting a helpless moan. He let go, pausing only to grin up at Sherlock before dragging his lips and teeth along Sherlock's jawline, biting all the way down to his collarbone. 

“Hey! Get a room!”

John froze, following Sherlock's gaze back to the lounge chairs, the honeymooners eyeing them with conspiratorial grins as they settled back down under the shade.

“Idiots!” Sherlock hissed, his lip curling in contempt. “They were _supposed_ to stay in their room.”

“Sherlock,” John said, his voice casual even as he dug his fingers into Sherlock's skin. “If we don't go back to _our_ room right now, I'm going to take you right here on this beach.”

Sherlock sucked in a breath, his eyes widening. “Oh, John, that's brilliant. They'll never be able to top that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave kudos if you liked it, and if you're in the mood, some comments. They make my little fandom world go 'round!


End file.
